


Days Lost

by fandomscolliding



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman - Fandom, Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood, batfam - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Red Hood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomscolliding/pseuds/fandomscolliding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t really know who he was, not anymore. His memory was scattered, with tattered pieces blowing like bullet torn flags in the wind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Lost

Jason could feel his madness crawling like laughter up his throat. When he looked in the eyes of the men in front of him, when he pulled back the hammer of the gun, when he squeezed the trigger, he saw the same fear his own eyes had once screamed. And he could feel it like fire in his blood as the bullets drove like red fireworks into their minds and hearts. He felt the madness cracking in his teeth as he smiles and turns away, his steps like iron against bone.

He didn’t really know who he was, not anymore. His memory was scattered, with tattered pieces blowing like bullet torn flags in the wind. He could recall bits and pieces—a woman (his mother?) lying on the bathroom floor, her red hair like a pool of blood, track marks like rivers of poison under her skin; a man behind a glass wall, his jumpsuit fluorescent orange, his mocking smile crawling under his skin and burrowing into his soul, leaving gaping holes filled with anger; a shadow with a face, spring green and scarlet red and canary yellow hanging in a glass case, and a gruff voice that sounded like home—but not the whole picture. All he knew was that there had been pain and loss and anger like poison and flame in his blood and sadness like an ache in his bones. And a smile like a slash of scarlet against a white face, a smile that haunted his dreams.

When he first crawled out of that pit, he didn’t understand. He had been somewhere warm and bright, a place where there weren’t so many emotions seething behind his eyes and streaming like trails of blood down his cheeks, and now he was back in a place where children died and fear was like a hook pulling at his heart. And all he wanted was to go back.

But then things came back—Batman and Robin, brothers and fathers and enemies—and he didn’t want the rest that he had once craved. No, now he wanted revenge. He wanted to paint his loneliness and loss in blood on the sidewalk. He wanted to carve his abandonment into the city’s streets. He wanted to be remembered, he wanted to remember, and more than anything he wanted the life that he could never again have.


End file.
